


Honor and Sacrifice

by Band007



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alive Sirius Black, Elfling Harry, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Veil of Death (Harry Potter), child torture(chapter 7), fake death Harry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:53:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27385996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Band007/pseuds/Band007
Summary: Harry bargains to fix what happened in the last battle for the lives of all the people he lost with the Valar. In return he is transported to Middle Earth to defeat Sauron and turned into an elfling. He must learn and complete certain tasks, when completed he will be allowed to return to his World to defeat Voldemort. Will it be worth the sacrifices he made or will he lose it all?
Comments: 23
Kudos: 204





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! First of all thank you so much for taking the time to read this! *yay!*Ok I just want to let you know this story will probably be pretty long!
> 
> The reason I started this story was because, honestly, I absolutely hated, hated, hated, the fact that Sirius Black died! Ok, my one character I loved to death and they killed him! So to cure my own sorrow I decided to write a story that would help change the way things went in Harry Potter. This means this story will not be canon although I will attempt to stick to the original story line as much as possible.
> 
> Anyway! Enjoy and don't forget to drop a review in you way out!

A dark cloudy sky broke over the deserted battlefield. One small shambling, filthy figure stumbled aimlessly, dodging burning, broken pieces of mortar. Bodies young and old, light and dark, were strung grotesquely in the rubble lying side by side in death. All was quiet, only the sound of fire crackling and the shambling figures footsteps were the only sounds breaking and eerie silence.

The rancid smells of death and dark spells bit the shambling figure's nose. The soft flutter revealed a contingent of ravens had arrived, intent on feeding off the dead wizards and witches.

"Get off!" The wizard cried in a tearful voice, shooing birds away with his open hand until they squawked angrily and flew off. This was one body they wouldn't touch so long as there was life in his body.

Harry dropped the wand clutched in his left hand carelessly, he didn't care if he ever cast another spell in his entire life. It'd be better if he never did. Voldemort and his filthy Death Eaters were dead, but not before everyone he held dear had perished as well. Clear tears spilled over his eyelids, drenching his face and the still, unbreathing body beneath him. He wanted to die! Why were the fates so cruel as to deny him the peace of death so he could join his loved ones?

Angrily, Harry snatched up the wand and flung it as far away as he could. Red sparks shot from the tip, blasting a crumbling wall, burying bodies of dark and light wizards alike. He didn't care, nothing or no one could make him care anymore. Anyone and everyone he cared about had been killed off. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Remus, Tonks, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the twins, even Hagrid. And Sirius... All of them were dead and it was his fault.

Agony tore at his heart and he kneeled over, clutching Ginny's cold face in his warm hands. Sobs racked his body and he laid his head down on her chest, trying to be as close to her as he could.

Soft, confident footsteps clicked closer. More than likely it was a Death Eater come to finish off the wizard who'd destroyed his Dark Master. Harry couldn't bring himself to care enough to face this new threat head on. He'd willing accept death if that was what this intruder was intending to give him. In his mind it would be an improvement, he didn't have the strength to go on anymore. The footsteps stopped directly over his shoulder.

"Why do you weap, child?" Harry inadvertently turned around at the unfamiliar voice. Fine tuned protective instincts ingrained in him kicked into gear, and he faced who had spoken.

A tall, powerful looking man stood behind him. Harry couldn't help but stare at the imposing figure towering over him. The man was young and had long stalk straight blonde, almost white hair. Instantly, Harry knew this stranger had a massive amount of magical power.

"Wha-" Harry winced as his voice cracked. He'd forgotten just how much speaking hurt, or any movement at all for that matter. "Who are you?" The wizard rasped timidly, unsure of who the man was.

"Ah-forgive me child. I am Mandos, Valar, Ruler of the Dead, and the Judge of Fate. Tell me young one, why do you weep so?" Harry looked up at Mandos, still kneeling beside Ginny.

Throwing his manners in the wind, Harry turned his back on the man and reached a hand out to smooth Ginny's red hair. Somewhere in the midst of all this madness that was the last year, Ginny had captured his heart. She openly expressed her love for him time and time again. Now it struck him, he'd never said he loved her in return. He'd shown he cared for her, but he hadn't ever gone so far as to proclaim his love for her out loud.

Harsh, gulping sobs escaped him. How could he have been so stupid? She died without knowing he loved her in return and now she'd never know.

"This is not the end child. You will see her again soon. Not only her, but all those who you have lost to this war and its atrocities." The stranger spoke with a voice like rippling water, either knowing what he was thinking or could actually read his mind.

With Voldemort dead he had taken his Occulmency shields down. The raven haired wizard twisted around in hope. If this figure was the 'Ruler of the Dead' as he claimed he was, did that mean he would allow him to join his family and friends? Rising up on shaky feet, Harry fully took in the appearance of the man before him.

He was dressed in a strangely decorated tunic and cloak were made out of a fabric he'd never seen before. A glowing, cherubic face with high, delicate cheekbones and strangely pointed ears poked up through hair that reminded him a lot of the Malfoy's. Vibrant, deep, crystal blue eyes pierced his soul and seemed to draw him into an unending abyss. Lastly, an assortment of large stones set in elegantly twisted rings glowed on his long slender fingers, vibrating with a life.

Harry dwelled on what the man had just said. "You mean you would take me to see them again?" He inquired hopefully. "I'd die?"

There hadn't been a day that went by, he didn't beg and dream he could see his friends and family again. His parents, Ginny, Remus… And Sirius, especially Sirius. He'd take Mandos up on any offer he made, so long as he was able to have them all again, no matter the cost.

"That all depends on you, however, that wasn't what I had in mind."

Harry visibly deflated at that. What was the point talking to this man if he wasn't able to see them again? Everyone he ever loved was dead, how else was he supposed to see them again if not in death? Harry was thoroughly confused.

A blinding flash of white light enveloped them, Harry was forced to raise a hand to shield his eyes. A woman in a grey cloak stepped out of the pillar of light.

"Mandos, I thought we all agreed I was to be the one to talk with him." The woman reprimanded the man behind him. "I find it hard to believe you approached him still."

The stranger, Mandos, squared his shoulders. "Nienna, it was true we agreed, however, this proposal will require to a large extent, by powers and abilities more than the others. I simply wished to speak to the child and explain what we are asking of him."

The tall imposing figure seemed only two feet tall compared to the new arrival, Nienna. Like Mandos, she had abnormally straight, platinum white hair that cascaded about her shoulders. While Mandos' face was hard and stern, the woman was the exact opposite of him. Nienna radiated power as well, but her features were soft and gentle. Though Harry could also sense a deep sadness in her countenance. He'd experienced enough of it to know the signs.

"Explaining? I swear Mandos, it looks like you've confused the poor dear instead of explaining yourself." Nienna waved her hand and an expensive and comfortable looking lounge appeared between her and Harry. "Can't you see the child is seconds away from falling over from exhaustion and injuries?"

Harry glanced uncertainly between the two strangers. He felt uncomfortable being the subject of their disagreement as they argued around him. His mind whirled with even more questions than he had before. What proposal? And who were the others that agreed Nienna would talk to him?

Nienna waved to him with an elegant flutter, beckoning him closer. "Come, sit."

Still unsure, Harry shuffled closer but refused to stray very far from Ginny's body. He could stand the thought of the birds coming back, no he wasn't going to leave her side for a single second. Not even to talk to this woman. She looked at him sympathetically, obviously seeing the turmoil raging inside him.

"Do not fear, child. Your beloved will not be disturbed, I and Mandos will make sure of that. Come, please, there is much to discuss and I dare say, I think you will welcome what we have to say to you."

The black haired human cast his eyes down to where Ginny lay on the hard stone. He was intrigued by what Nienna had said, but still didn't wish to leave Ginny's side. The closest end of the lounge was less than a foot from Ginny. Tremors run up and down his exhausted and beaten body. The stranger was right, he did need to sit down, and soon.

He sat down on the end of the lounge as close to Ginny as he could. Above him, Mandos had summoned his own chair and was closely watching him. Harry looked down at his dirty hands and fought the urge to fidget under the steely gaze of Mandos.

"First, you have to understand who we are." Nienna began. "We are two of the fourteen Valar who rule and watch over the worlds of men, elves, dwarves and many more races."

"Elves?" Harry asked.

"Elves are a supreme race, most loved by the Valar. The elves we speak of are not like the elves you know in this world. They are not servants nor are they subject to the rule of men. The exact opposite actually. They are stronger and more powerful than all races, even wizards. Moving on, our job is to keep order, and dictate correct punishments or rewards for all souls who live on those worlds." The wizard remained silent.

"What my sister is trying to say is, we have been watching this world and it's war for some time." Mandos sighed, sadly. "Too many lives have been lost for petty greed, lust for power, and arrogance. Too many have died that were not supposed to. All of the Valar have spent much time debating and mourning over the woes inflicted upon this world. Too much has been lost from this world for it to remain as it is now. It is little more than ruins and should it go on, it may very well fall into ruin, even with evil its being defeated."

"If you've been watching this world, then why haven't you interfered before now? Surely you could have stopped terrible things from happening before now!" Harry spread his grimy arms out. "Look at what has been lost? My home, everyone I love, all of it? Why didn't you stop it?"

Nienna's brilliant blue eyes purposed the rubble and bodies strung out everywhere and pursed her lips.

"It's not that simple, Harry Potter. We may govern and rule ages and innumerable worlds of men but it doesn't mean we can simply do whatever we will. With greater power comes greater accountability."

"Harry-" Mandos cut in. "we are bound to rules and laws the same as you are. That is how the universe is managed. We wanted nothing more than to stop the atrocities and killings in this world, but alas we could not. As I said there has been much deliberation and we have finally been given permission to do what we feel must be done."

"Are you saying...you can fix all of this?" The hopeful tone in the child's voice cut to the hearts of the two strangers. "It's possible I can have everyone back? Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the twins, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Remus, Tonks...And Sirius? The right way, no dark magic or sorcery."

"We can and I promise it will all be the correct way, not the evil twisted arts causing so much destruction. But there is something we need from you." Mandos confirmed.

"Anything." Harry breathed. Excitement stirred up inside him. _Could he dare hope it was true?_

"Harry." He turned to look at Nienna. "Child, you must understand there is much more to what we are offering you than having your loved one's back. There will be certain sacrifices you will have to make if you choose to accept."

"Choose to accept?"

"We won't force you into this. Please listen and we'll explain it to you, but you are not required to do what we are asking. It's entirely your decision. Choose what feels best to you and do not only dwell on the fact you could see your dead family and friends again. That is all we ask." Mandos said gently.

Seeing Harry was properly settled, Nienna and Mandos exchanged a meaningful look. Wordlessly, Mandos leaned forward and rested his hand on the child's chest, pushing his inner light into the human. Pulsing light wrapped and weaved itself in and out of Harry at Mandos' command.

Harry's eyes grew wide. "What was that?" After Mandos touched him, he felt much better.

"You are grievously injured. I healed you, partially anyway. You are no longer in immediate danger, although you will require medical attention soon. I'm afraid this final fight has taken more out of you than you first realized."

"First off we haven't appropriately met, I am Nienna, Lady and Valar of Mercy. Mandos is my brother. Because of my title, it is my right to explain and formally present this agreement." As she said 'formally', the woman Valar shot her brother an icy cold glare. Obviously she wasn't pleased he approached him before she could.

His low chuckle shook his body. For whatever reason he found it very funny Nienna, a soft and gentle Lady of Mercy, had it in her to shoot daggers at her stern brother who just happened to be the Lord of the Death. It almost reminded him of how Roy and his brothers teased one another relentlessly. Mirth faded from his lips rapidly, he missed the Weasley brothers to no end.

"Now you must know there are more worlds with magic than just this one. There are many worlds and universes that are divergent and parallel to this one. Far away there is a world known as Middle earth. There resides the elves I spoke of earlier. A war is coming to that world."

Harry made a face. He'd had enough of this war, and they wanted him to fight another one?

"Hear me out, Harry." Nienna interjected, seeing his reaction. "A dark Lord serving an even darker master forged a ring in the fires of a volcano with the plan to enslave every race under his thumb. To do this, he vainly bound his soul into the ring. When Sauron's plot was revealed the race of men and elves forged an alliance to stand against his first assault. Finally, after many lives were lost and years had passed the ring was taken from Sauron and he was defeated. The ring should have been destroyed then, but it corrupted and warped the mind of a man. Sauron will live on and continue to fight against the free nations until he succeeds or the ring is thrown back into the fires it was cast from."

"It's a horcrux." The dark haired wizard murmured numbly, unsure of how to feel about facing another horcrux.

"Indeed. I mentioned before that we couldn't interfere with the events of this world before now. That is because of one important reason. Time and fate can only be rewound once. We only have one chance to destroy Sauron and change your world for the better." Nienna was looking at him thoughtfully and Harry understood.

"You want me to venture to Middle Earth, destroy Sauron and in return I get my family back."

"Yes and no." Mandos interrupted and smiled at the confused look he was given. "Nienna will explain."

"Thank you brother." Neinna said sarcastically. "You are partially correct, we do want you to go to Middle Earth, but we only ask you to help destroy Sauron. You see, Sauron is bound to the ring but he can't completely come back until he gains the ring again."

"Where is it?" Harry questioned curiously.

"Currently, it rests in the hands of a creature named Gollum. In short, the ring corrupts and consumes any and all who possess it. Gollum has held the One ring for nearly two hundred years. It has consumed his mind and changed him into a creature of darkness. No one in Middle Earth knows where the ring is except you and I. For now it remains hidden until it's time has come." Nienna smoothed her silk dress, large rings on her hand sparkled. "Sauron doesn't have a body yet, so should the ring be destroyed-"

"-He'd die and never come back."

"Yes. However there is a slight matter." Now it was Nienna and Mandos' turn to look unsure. "If we were to send you to Middle Earth we would have to tamper with the fabric of time between both worlds."

"What would that mean?"

This time Mandos cut into the conversation once again, much to his sister's irritation. She was sending him icy glares over the top of Harry's head. "It means to send you to Middle Earth, first we would have to set you back to a certain time and place to make sure the timelines match up. It's necessary so we can save as many lives as possible."

A thought suddenly struck Harry and he looked up at Mandos in horror as he realized what he had just said.

"What about the horcruxes including the one inside me? And the war, and Voldemort?" Harry's eyes were wide and frantic. _Would that mean in exchange for bringing back his friends and family he'd also bring Voldemort and all his ugliness back as well?_

 _Dread_ dropped like a rock in his gut at the pointed look both Mandos and Nienna exchanged with one another. Tipping his head back, Harry closed hiseyes. Bringing Voldemort back was exactly what this bargain was going to do…


	2. Chapter 2

“I can’t.” Harry muttered softly. “I can’t bring Voldemort back so I can have my friends and family. If he comes back…”

The young wizard nudged a thick layer of dirt into a pile with his foot, reeling… He wasn’t sure what he felt. Disappointed, because he wouldn’t accept an agreement that would grant life to everyone he ever loved and yet...determined. He wouldn’t sink to the status of a dark wizard so he could fulfill his own selfish desires. Harry was proud, yet, heartbroken that his decision meant they would all remain as they were, dead.  _ The fates hate me with a burning passion,  _ Harry thought. _ Not even the Valar can help me. _

“I think you misunderstand. In the original timeline your Godfather, Sirius, fell through the Veil causing his death. We can not openly set a dark lord loose on a defenseless world unless there are certain safeguards. This way we can ensure we save a world instead of destroying it.” Mandos explained, fully ignoring the dark looks his sister was sending him. He interrupted her yet, again.

“What safeguards?”

Nienna cut in quickly, not giving her brother a chance to answer. “First and foremost, Voldemort’s horcruxes’. Our job is to change the past, yes, but also to preserve the future as much as possible. After Sirius’ death, you and your friends began destroying the horcruxes where you learned about the horcrux residing in you. Our solution is to send you back just before the time your Godfather died. The horcrux still needs to be destroyed. So should you accept, you would fall through the veil in place of Sirius Black, destroying it.”

“So  _ I _ would die? Then what?”

“Well,” Nienna said. “Because you would fall through the veil, your mortal body would be destroyed, not just the horcrux. You would be without a body and everyone in this world, Voldemort included, would believe you to be dead.”

“Which in all senses of the word you would be.” The Valar of the Dead said morbidly.

The Lady of Mercy shot him a warning look. Obviously she didn’t find his comment as funny as he did. Harry supposed being the Lord of the Dead gave you certain rights to make dark jokes.

“Mandos has agreed to give another body, or rather if you will, resurrect your dead body and then you will be taken to Middle Earth.” Harry looked down at his ratty sneakers.

It went against everything he believed in to bring Voldemort back to life. The Dark Lord hadn’t been dead for more than half an hour and here he was being asked if he wanted to bring him back to life! They told him doing this would save more lives, but he wouldn’t be able to live with himself knowing he unleashed a Dark Lord on his home again.

A warm and slender finger tipped his head up forcing his eyes away from his grubby shoes. The Lady of Mercy looked at him sympathetically.

“Child, do not worry about the future. We promise, Voldemort and his followers will be kept within certain boundaries until the final battle. This plan is designed to provide help and relief to all servants of light, not to bring them into destruction and slavery under dark rule.” Harry nodded his head in understanding.

Mandos spoke. “Only you can make this plan work. I promise you, we will help you at every step. And you may find help and healing in Middle Earth.”

Harry looked unconvinced. “You promise Voldemort will be kept on a leash. And I won’t come back to find he’d gone on some killing streak because I’m dead?”

“No. Your loved one’s will be safe.”

“And the other six horcruxes?”

“We’ll make sure your friends destroy them so Voldemort is mortal at the end.” Nienna affirmed. “You will be allowed to gaze on them whenever you wish in Middle Earth.”

“When....When do I need to...decide?” The young wizard stood up warily. Wet green eyes returned to Ginny. If he agreed he would see her again, alive. What would people think of him, knowing he was contemplating bringing the Dark Lord back?

Nienna rose, and placed a long slender hand on his shoulder. Gently she turned him around to face her.

“Harry, you can do this. I promise, you’ll still have your magic in Middle Earth and the time change may even strengthen it. You won’t be defenseless. Nor will you leave your home defenseless either.” The Lady Valar rested her hand on his cheeks. “This deal will not turn you evil like Voldemort, if it did we never would have approached you. By doing this you will  _ save _ lives, many, many lives.”

Mandos came to stand beside his sister. “It’s time to decide Harry Potter.”

Harry limped over to Ginny and rested his hand on her shoulder. The witch's red hair was fanned out around her head like a halo. Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Remus, Tonks, Sirius, the Twins, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley all deserved to live. Besides, with them all dead, he had nothing here to live for.

Harry pressed one last kiss against Ginny’s cold lips. Then the Boy-Who-Lived turned to face the Valar behind him, determination sparkled in his green eyes.

“I’ll do it.”

* * *

_ The Department of Mysteries, The Death Chamber… _

Spells and curses whizzed by in a stunningly brilliant array. Green and red flashes of light sped inches from him at sickening speeds. Hermione, Ginny, Ron, Luna, and the others were crouched at the base of the dias he stood on. Harry took in the scene around him with apprehension. It was surreal to be back in the same room where he’d lost Sirius.

A second ago he’d been transported by Lady Nienna and Lord Mandos of the Valar to the exact room and time he was in now. The veil whispered and twisted at his back beckoning him to come closer. The Valar had said he’d be falling through the veil this time, but he didn’t know how.  _ Trust us, child. All will be as promised, have faith. _ Harry started when Lady Nienna’s voice echoed in his head.

“Harry! Harry, pay attention!” Sirius yelled at him, blocking two curses from Lucius Malfoy meant for him.

Shaking himself out of the stupor he was in, Harry clenched his phoenix core wand. Lucius spared a second to shoot him a self-satisfied smirk. Rage rose inside him. It was bad enough he had to deal with the smirk from Draco but his father? This was one time he could wipe the arrogant look off a  _ Malfoy’s  _ face no less and he was taking it. Wiping it off Lucius’? Even better, the coward.

“EXPELLIARMUS!” Harry bellowed. A shocked look crossed Lucius’ face before he was knocked backwards, tumbling painfully off the edge of the dias.

“Ha ha ha ha!” Sirius laughed beside him. The young wizard fought to keep a straight face. He’d wanted to do that for so long! “Good one Harry!”

Travers, the Death Eater who had fought beside Lucius took a step backwards, suddenly finding himself alone against Sirius and Harry. Knowing they had the upper hand now, Godfather and Godson advanced, pressing their advantage.

In a swirl of black and green, Bellatrix Black suddenly appeared on a large rock behind Travers. Immediately, she casted a stunning spell. Red light lurched at a breakneck speed towards Harry.

Having a sudden thought, The-Boy-Who-Lived raised his wand to cast a spell, not to block the one coming at him, but rather to fulfill an important purpose whispered in his head. Pale blue wisps leaked from the end of his wand before dissipating into nothing.

“Oof.” Harry froze and stumbled backwards under the influence of the stunning spell. A wet, cold sensation penetrated his tee-shirt and Harry knew his right shoulder had touched the veil.

“Harry.” Sirius whispered in disbelief. The man's eyes were wide and unsurprisingly wet when they met Harry’s.

A high pitched scream rent the chamber making everyone look up at the dias. “No! Harry!” 

Members of the Order of the Phoenix fought to restrain the group of deranged teenagers determined to climb the dias, while keeping an eye on the equally shocked Death Eaters. All fighting in the chamber stopped completely and every eye was on Harry.

“Harry, please.” Sirius whispered again like a mantra, hoping it was all fake.  _ Harry was the Boy-Who-Lived, he wasn’t supposed to die. The veil surely wouldn’t kill him would it? _

A small smile quirked the edge of Harry’s mouth and the young man conveyed as much love in his eyes as he could in the short time he had left. A dark, curly haired head tipped backwards. A young chest rose up before the body of Harry Potter shimmered and disappeared into the veil, dead.

Sirius Black dropped to the floor on his knees, the man rocked back and forth, howling. The Order of the Phoenix watched numbly as the Death Eaters all deapperated with a pop, with the exception of Lucius Malfoy who was unconscious as ever on the hard floor. At any other time the sight of such a pompous man unconscious with his platinum blond hair wrapped unflatteringly around his bleeding face would have been satisfying, but at the moment everyone else in the chamber was silent.

The-Boy-Who-Lived was dead.

Remus Lupin climbed the dias slowly. Sirius’ howles were growing louder at every passing moment. Clear tears were trickling down the normally composed werewolves face. Lupin himself felt the crushing desire to become a puddle on the floor but at any moment the Ministry would be here and if they found Sirius, his friend would be carted off to the dementors.

“Padfoot?” Sirius didn’t respond. “Sirius you have to leave, now.”

“I don’t care, Moony. Leave me alone!”

“Sirius, Harry wouldn’t want you to get caught! Go back home, go home for  _ him _ .” The werewolves bottom lip quivered.

Wet blue eyes rose to meet golden. “Harry’s...He’s… Oh no!” The escaped ex-convict gripped his black hair with an unforgiving grip, tearing it out. “What am I going to do!”

Mad-Eye limped over, addressing Lupin. “Get Black out of here. We’ve done enough without the Ministry coming down on our heads, and finding  _ him  _ here.” The old man turned to where Arthur Weasley and Tonks were restraining the mourning teenagers. “Get them back to Hogwarts, the last thing we need is another trumped-up trial from our  _ brilliant _ Minister.”

The teenagers were ushered out of the chamber. Meanwhile, Remus wrapped both of his arms around a still rocking Sirius. With a pop both werewolf, and animagus were gone, not a moment too soon.

“What’s going on!?” Fudge’s angry voice was heard in the corridor outside the Death Chamber. 

Mad-Eye sighed, gazing momentarily at the Veil before thumping over to bind and levitate Malfoy. This had to be the worst day of his life. 


	3. Chapter 3

When Harry woke again he was lying in a beautiful meadow, bathed in pure white light.  _ Where was he? _ Then the events of the last few hours came back to him. The final battle against Voldemort, the Valar, The Death Chamber.  _ The Death Chamber! _ Right now everyone thought he was dead! Wait a minute…. He was dead, isn't that what Mandos said?

He'd been so bent on negotiating to bring them all back. Now when he had the chance to think about what he’d put them through, admittedly he felt a little guilty. No one deserved to mourn someone they loved needlessly. A small rational voice inside his head supported his decision. He wasn’t doing it for himself, he was doing it for them. 

The entire Wizarding World now thought the Boy-Who-Lived was irrevocably dead, subjecting themselves to a rule under the Dark Lord.  _ Sirius must be tearing himself apart at the moment.  _ Harry could only hope Sirius wouldn't do anything incredibly stupid like handing himself over to the dementors in his grief.

“You didn’t waste any time.” Harry said. In an instant he’d gone from agreeing to travel back in time, to actually being back in time! It was a little distorting to say the least.

“I know it was sudden, but we have to move quickly.” Nienna was methodically pruning a pure white tree with golden leaves no more than ten paces from where he was lying.

Harry stood, noticing the grass was cool and comfortable on his bare feet. “Why am I here?”

“Peace child, you must learn patience. We have a little longer to wait before the timeline will match up enough to send you to Middle Earth. Before you go, I thought it wise to give you a little counsel about the world you are about to enter.” Intrigued, Harry sat down on the cool grass. Nienna looked at him approvingly and continued. “Middle Earth still resides in the Dark Ages. I won’t trouble you with pointless information that you’ll learn later, however, there are three Elven kingdoms: Lothlorien, Imladris, and Greenwood. Lothlorien and Imladris are protected by elven rings. Their live forces are bound up with the One ring, so when the One is destroyed the elven rings will be destroyed as well. When that happens, the elves’ power will be broken and they’ll eventually sail to these shores.”

“What about Greenwood? If Greenwood doesn’t have a ring and has remained, why can’t the other kingdoms live on as well?”

“The elves could remain in Middle Earth, yes. Truthfully, they don’t wish to stay on Arda. You must understand, child, the elves have been leaving Middle Earth for many centuries even knowing Sauron will rise again soon.” Nienna had a far away look in her eyes.

“So they choose to leave the rest of Middle Earth in peril? They would walk away instead of staying to aid the other races save their homes and lives?” Anger burned in Harry’s heart.

“Yes.” Harry rose arguing, The Lady of Mercy cut him off. “-understand me child. The elven nations have paid the price of war several times over. We are immortal beings. With immortality, there is a price. Elves are creatures of light, and in the midst of evil, children are rare. If the elves fight as they did before, the race of elves will be wiped out and either way, they still would not be able to offer adequate support. It’s a hard fact to face, but there is only so much elves can do to help and the fate of Middle Earth lies solely in the hands of men.”

Anger slated, Harry dropped back down. Tipping his head back, he studied the Valar tenderly pruning the beautiful tree. He felt properly chastised. All that was going on was completely new to him and he was feeling suffocated. Suffocated by a world and beings he didn’t understand.

“Can I gaze on my world, My Lady?” The young wizard questioned politely. Perhaps if he had a chance to see his home world he wouldn’t feel so lost.

Nienna smiled sweetly at him before offering him her hand. Swiftly pulled to his feet, Harry walked beside the Lady of Mercy trying not to stare at the immaculate garden surrounding him. Soon enough, they stopped in a small clearing where a carved bowl was filled with brilliant water. It reminded him of a pevensie. 

Nienna motioned for him to stand beside the bowl. Harry watched in silence as she tipped a pale finger into the water and turned it counterclockwise. The water swirled crazily before she stopped her finger and ran it in the opposite direction. She chanted in a language he didn’t understand. Withdrawing her finger she stepped back and motioned for him to look into the bowl.

Placing both hands on either side of the bowl Harry leaned in. He waited intently, staring into the rapidly churning water. Unlike a pevensie, the young wizard kept his head away from the water. The clear almost white water grew still and all at Harry felt an unexpected drop in his gut and he pitched forward through the bowl. 

Coming to a stop he looked around in confusion. He was in Hogsmeade?

Shocked, he looked around the busy streets of Hogsmeade. Wizards and witches moved back and forth between the crowded, narrow streets like usual. Harry grew nervous. What if someone recognized him? In answer to his question, a dark haired witch in unflatteringly red robes crashed into him. Crashed wasn’t the right word. The witch passed right through his torso and continued down the street.

The young wizard froze. _What was that? Was that because of Nienna’s bowl or he was dead in this world?_ _I wonder what would happen if I tried to touch something?_ His green eyes looked around. They came to rest on an abandoned newspaper lying in the street.

Bold letters scrolled across the top of the parchment.

* * *

**Harry Potter Dead!**

_ It has been released that Harry Potter, after being drawn out by You-Know-Who, was killed in a deadly duel with Death Eaters. Why Potter was not safely under the protection of Hogwarts this author would like to know. _

_ This author has many questions. If The-Boy-Who-Lived is dead, what will become of the Wizarding World? Is Albus Dumbldore capable of keeping our children safe at Hogwarts if he couldn’t protect the Savior of the Wizarding World? Last, how long has the Ministry been covering up the reappearance of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? _

* * *

The newspaper was folded over itself, cutting off the rest of the article from being read. He tried to straighten out the paper. Every time he got close to touching the parchment, his fingers passed right through it.

Obviously, the Ministry was suppressing how he died and why. Given the situation, he snorted. Typical.

For his entire life he’d been hounded by reporters who wrote fake news about him night and day. It was ironic the Wizarding World would have to endure another round of fake news about his supposed death as well.

Something made him suspect it was Fudge’s doing. He couldn’t blame the man after all. Once word got out The-Boy-Who-Lived had died in the Department of Mysteries (which didn’t officially exist) on the very doorstep of the Ministry the man would be likely burned at the stake. Instead of feeling the usual contempt for the man, Harry felt pity. He wanted the man out of office with gusto just like any other Order Member, but for some odd reason he felt like giving the man mercy.

Left with nothing more to do, he wandered down the streets of Hogsmeade. The overly full streets were oddly quiet. No one acknowledged one another. Instead they went about their business as fast as they could. It was unsettling to say the least. Then he came across another abandoned newspaper. Hungrily he read.

* * *

**Lucius Malfoy Arrested!!!**

_ In the midst of The-Boy-Who-Lived’s death, it has been confirmed that the well known socialite Lucius Malfoy has been arrested for supporting You-Know-Who. Mr. Malfoy was knocked unconscious by the last spell uttered by The-Boy-Who-Lived. Currently, he is in a holding cell in the Ministry awaiting trial. _

_ In addition, reports also support the possibility of Malfoy’s left arm being marked with the dark mark. All evidence leads to the possibility of the return of You-Know-Who. _

_ So Malfoy was found out then.  _ Harry couldn’t help but feel a little satisfaction with that tidbit of information.  _ Too bad I can’t be there to see Fudge’s face when he finds out Voldemort’s back and has supporters working in the Ministry to boot. _

* * *

Suddenly, Harry felt a drop in his gut followed by the world spinning crazily. Once he stopped spinning he looked around to find he was in Dumbledore’s Office. He frowned.

The wizard himself was sitting behind his desk with his head in his hands. Harry took an instinctive step closer unsure of why he was here. Umbridge had control of the school and Dumbledore had been in hiding at this time. How was he back in Hogwarts without the Ministry witch knowing? The door behind him burst open. The dark haired boy couldn’t stop the yelp of surprise from escaping him as the figure of Severus Snape stalked right through him. Thankfully neither man had noticed his outburst.

He shivered. It was getting a little more than unnerving to have actual beings walk right through him unnoticed.

“Albus.”

“Severus, what brings you here?” The Headmaster of Hogwarts methodically rubbed his head trying to chase away the pain that resided there. He hadn’t looked up to properly greet his spy, instead intent on studying the wood grain of his desk.

“ _ What am I doing here? _ ” Snape’s voice rose in sudden anger. “I want to know just how Harry Potter left Hogwarts to go gallivanting through the Department of Mysteries with his friends, getting himself killed in the process!” The Potions Master laid his hands on the Headmaster's desk leaning over the aging wizard like he was a student about to be sentenced to the longest and most gruesome detention the wizard could create.

“Severus-” Dumbledore started in a pacifying tone, but Snape stopped him from speaking any further, slamming his open palms on the wood.

“Don’t ‘Severus’ me, Albus! Harry Potter the Savior of the Wizarding World is dead!  _ Her  _ son is dead!” Quiet sniffles reached Harry’s ears. His jaw dropped in shock. Severus Snape, the infallible Potions Master and incurer of students' nightmares, was crying over  _ his  _ death?

Harry had studied Snape’s memories following the spy’s death. Snape loved his mother, but never in his wildest dreams would Harry believe the surely Potions Master would care enough about him to cry over his death.

“How Albus? How did he leave Hogwarts?”

Albus Dumbledore sighed and looked up. “I don’t know, Severus. I suspect his friends would know, but at the moment are too distraught to answer any questions we might have at the moment. Remus Lupin managed to apparate Sirius Black to safety before Fudge arrived and started asking questions.”

At the mention of Sirius, Snape’s lip curled into a sneer. Harry rolled his eyes. His fingers suddenly had the urge to slap his Godfather and Potions Professor up the side of the head, tell them to apologize, and get it over with once and for all.  _ If only it was that easy _ …

Vaguely, Harry could hear Professor Snape and Dumbledore talking to each other, but he tuned them out. Would Snape be safe as a spy with him dead or would he still be killed by Voldemort in this timeline? Nienna and Mandos had said when he fell through the Veil he took Sirius’ place, saving his Godfather’s life. The Valar had promised his loved one’s would remain safe and protected until he returned, but just who exactly would that entail?

With him dead, wouldn’t that mean everyone who died to protect him would live? Or would they meet their deaths in different ways? His mind was swimming with possibilities and questions he didn’t have answers to.

“-there’s still the prophecy to consider.” Harry’s head snapped up and he came up level to Dumbledore’s desk, interested in what the two wizards were talking about. “Luckily, the prophecy was destroyed preventing Voldemort from getting his hands on it.”

“With Potter dead, the prophecy is pointless anyway. The Dark Lord wasn’t happy the prophecy was destroyed even if Potter is dead.” Snape conjured a chair and sat down at the desk crossed his arms across his chest imposingly. “For one of the first times ever, he’s extremely displeased with Bellatrix Lestrange. He couldn’t stand the thought someone else had the pleasure of killing The-Boy-Who-Lived instead of him.”

Dumbledore stopped rubbing his aching head and looked surprised. “So Harry’s death was accidental. Interesting.” He stood and gazed out one of the many windows in his expansive office. “Did Voldemort tell you anything about his future plans?”

“No. He was shocked and angry at Potter’s death. I don’t think he has immediate plans yet. He plans to tighten up his inner circle of followers. With Lucius Malfoy arrested and losing his faith in Bellatrix, he’s going to be evermore suspicious and careful. Albus, his faith in me is waning. It’ll only be a matter of time before he suspects me of working against him. My time as a spy for the Order is running short.” The greasy haired man stood and followed the aging wizard to the window.

Harry trailed over as behind Snape, no longer concerned about getting too close. It seemed whatever magic Neinna had used to transport him here made it impossible for him to be seen, heard or touched by anyone in this world. He couldn’t help but feel a little grateful. All his life people had only told him what they deemed ‘important’. This way would allow him to see his world unclouded.

“The Dark Lord will no doubt begin his raids anew with the news of Harry’s death. In his mind, there will be no limits or boundaries to stay within, no one left to challenge his power.” Harry shook his head and moved forward, mouth suddenly dry. He already knew what Dumbledore was going to say.

“No!” Harry shouted. Dumbledore and Snape just looked on, unaware of his presence or the words he was shouting at them. “You have no right to make him stay with Voldemort! You’ll get him killed for no reason!” As if he had impromptu backup, an angry Snape started in.

“Albus, you know not what you ask. Soon my lies and deceptions will be revealed. He will show no mercy, not even in death.” The Potions Master looked furious. “I could offer you no more information after today. The possibility of being found out is too great.”

“Severus. Against all hope, Harry Potter is dead. We are lucky that so far Voldemort hasn’t acted on this information yet, but we both know it will not last. With him dead, Voldemort will wage war on the Wizarding World without any kind of restraint. Severus, I need you to remain in his inner circle and feed us any information that you can. I’m afraid to say it. The Order needs you now more than ever. You must remain as you are.”

The Headmaster of Hogwarts bowed his head, turned to Professor Snape with a pleading look.

“I don’t know if that will even be possible! Albus, with the Potter boy dead things have changed drastically! Should I remain as a servant to the Dark Lord I will have to be as I was before, fully loyal to him. That means, I’ll be required to give him valuable information that the Light side cannot lose. As well as telling the Order less and less until everyone believes I am a double agent.” In a rare show of weakness, Snape rested wearily against a stone wall and ran a hand over his face. “You would condemn me to commit horrendous acts, all the while only you know where my true loyalties lie.”

“It’s dangerous, yes, but it must be done, and I believe only you can do it. Lily’s son is dead, passed on with his parents. Harry’s legacy must continue on.”

A rock sank heavily in Harry’s gut. Dumbledore was using his mother's memory and his own name to coerce Snape into doing something he clearly didn’t want to do. Manipulative coward! If he wasn’t able to touch anything, he’d hex Dumbledore ten ways from Sunday for what he was doing.

Rage consumed him. Lashing out, left arm connected with the closest object. Dumbledore’s chair. This time, however, it didn’t pass through the chair, rather sending it to the floor with a resounding crash.

Harry gulped.  _ That’s not good! _

Professor Snape had his wand out pointing around the room looking for the source.  _ Please don’t see me, please don’t see me! _ The room was empty to the two wizards' eyes. Snape’s wand was returned to it’s holster. Only then did the young wizard breathe a sigh of relief.  _ They still didn’t know he was there. _

Both wizards shared a look, clearly conveying the fact they no longer felt like continuing their argument. Collecting himself, the Head of Slytherin House straightened his clothes, and gave Headmaster Dumbledore a withering look.

“I’ll talk to you later.” The man swept out of the room.

Before he knew what he was doing, Harry followed Snape closely and slipped through the door Snape opened. Once out of the Headmaster’s Office, Harry jogged slightly to keep up with the Potion’s Master’s fast gait. He took great pains to avoid Snape’s billowing cloak. After what happened with Dubledore’s chair the last thing Harry wanted was for him to interact with anything else in this world until he’d learned to control it.

Students clambered out of the way when the Potion’s Master came close to them, making it even easier for Harry to pass through Hogwarts undetected. Soon enough, Snape turned down the broad stairs leading to the cold dungeons.

At first Harry thought he was returning to his classroom, but when the man turned down a narrow and deserted hallway Harry knew better. Several tight turns and an intersection later, they came to a stop at a dead end.

“Bloodroot” A bare wall leaped aside and revealed what Harry assumed was Snape’s personal quarters.

The man disappeared inside and Harry waited in the hallway, unsure. After Snape had died, there was so much Harry had wanted to say to the elusive and misunderstood spy. He knew it was only a matter of time before the wall slid together. There was a good possibility he may never have this chance again.

Harry swept through the opening, hearing the wall slide shut behind him.


	4. Chapter 4

Severus Snape entered his private quarters solemnly. Albus’ words echoed in his mind. He couldn’t help the rage that was swelling inside his chest. Albus often asked more than the man was willing to give himself. He regretted joining the Dark Lord with every fiber of his being. Nor was he proud of the man he had become in those years serving the Dark Lord.

Albus Dumbledore had taken a chance with him that no other wizard dared to, but sometimes the old man was so naive it made him want to scream. Never before had he ever thought the man would be so controlling as to use Lily’s memory and son to force him to remain a spy. An unquenchable fit of rage struck him. Picking up caddie of potions he flung it against the wall feeling satisfied when the shattered.

Madame Pomfrey had been expecting those potions for a week now, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Sliding down the wall, the potions ran together combining in a large puddle. Severus waved his wand to vanish the substances. The last thing he wanted was an explosion to dampen his already dark mood. His chest heaved with silent sobs.  _ How had it ever come to this? _ No matter who or what he tried to save, he was doomed to watch everything fall apart right before his eyes.

Lily.

Her son.

His mother.

The Potions Master closed his eyes in concentration. Slowly his Occlumency shields come alive again, masking the pain. His heart still felt like it’d been torn to shreds by thousands of reducto curses, but he felt better. More in control. He hadn’t lost control in fourteen years and he wasn’t about to give his emotions full rein any time soon.

“Professor?” A voice timidly asked. _ The voice sounded familiar...Potter? But how? _

Snape looked around desperately. Potter had to be around here somewhere. “Potter? Come to haunt me? If you are, I assure you, I will find a way to pull you back into the lands of the living so I can kill you again myself!”

There was a low chuckle coming from his right.  _ The portrait! _ “I don’t think that’s possible, Professor.” Potter sighed. “Though in a way I do wish it was. Anyway, I’m not here to haunt you, that’s not my intention. Strangely enough, you’re the only person that can hear me. Which is either widely ironic or cruel.”

“Where are you, Potter?” Snape’s degrading sneer was back.

“That’s not important.”

Anger surged through Snape.  _ ‘That’s not important!!’ _ Cheeky little brat. The man was seconds away from finding a way to strangle the brat here and now. As soon as he figured out how to do it, that was.  _ Could you strangle or curse someone who was already dead? _

“So that’s how it is, is it? You go off sneaking out of Hogwarts, drag your friends along--almost get them killed--get yourself knocked into the Veil and then show up?!”

Harry bit his lip. After the war, Severus Snape was nowhere near as imposing as he used to be. Harry had been through much and done too much to cower in front of a man who was nowhere near as evil or sinister as he liked to make himself out to be. Still, there was a part of him that wanted nothing more than to throw a temper tantrum, here and now. Come to think of it, it’d be interesting to see if he could perform magic.

_ Focus on the task at hand, child. You don’t have much more time left in this world before Neinna calls you back to her side. Make every second count. It is his destiny to know about the horcruxes.  _ This time, it was Mandos’ stern voice that invaded his mind.

Harry almost sighed, but he recognized the wisdom in Mondos’ words. More than likely this would be his first and last time being able to see his home like this. The Valar for some reason had chosen Snape to be the person to chase down the horcruxes.  _ Who was he to argue? _

“ Contrary to popular belief, my death was necessary. Listen, I don’t have much time. Voldemort split his soul between six horcruxes making him immortal. You need to find and destroy all of the horcruxes before Voldemort can be killed.”

Snape looked pale. The Dark Lord was known for his prowess in the dark arts and the dark arts were well...dark. But the thought of a horcrux--no! Potter said six, six horcruxes. Merlin, six horcruxes! Snape suddenly had the urge to throw up his meager lunch.

“How do you know this, Potter? How could you possibly get your hands on this kind of information? If what you say is true...” The black clothed man ran a hand through greasy hair.

“It’s true, Professor. Besides me there’s only one other person who knows.”

It didn’t take long for Snape to know who he was talking about.  _ Dumbledore, the old fool. Of course he would have known and kept it a secret. _ A sudden dark thought crossed his mind, urged on my Potter previous words, ‘ Contrary to popular belief, my death was necessary’. No, it couldn’t be possible, could it? The scar? The visions? Was Potter a…

Snape looked up with a dumbstruck look on his face staring at the entrance way to his apartments where he was sure Potter was standing.

“You...Were...?” Snape cringed at his jumbled words. Only this child, her child, could tie him up in knots like this. “Were you one of them? A horcrux?”

Potter was quiet before speaking again. “Yes.” The Potions Master closed his eyes. “Now you know why it had to happen this way. Professor, please, you have to listen to me. I chose to die this way because it was necessary, but no one can know. No one. Not Sirius, Remus, the Order, my friends, no one. Voldemort hid all six of his horcruxes in separate places. I was the seventh. I was...unintentional.”

“The horcruxes, what are they?”

Harry smiled freely, knowing his least favorite professor couldn’t see it. Severus Snape may be a surely old fool, but underneath his cold exterior he hid a heart. “ Tom Riddle's diary, Marvolo Gaunt's Ring, Salazar Slytherin's Locket, Helga Hufflepuff's Cup, Rowena Ravenclaw's Diadem and Voldemort's snake Nagini. Regulus Black stole the locket from Voldemort just before his death. He gave it to his family elf Kreacher. Be careful. Voldemort hid each of his horcruxes well and enchanted them to do as much damage as possible to whoever finds them. Most especially the ring. It contains a compulsion and withering curse. Whatever you do, don’t put it on. I suggest choosing someone to go along with you when you go after them.”

The greasy haired man digested this information slowly. It was a lot to take in. Potter’s voice had a note in it that suggested he was leaving.

“Potter?”

“Professor?”

“I suppose you’ll want your mutt of a godfather to know all this?”

Snape’s eyebrows rose at the boy’s next words. “No. Don’t tell anyone that you spoke to me or anything. I have a plan that will allow me to come back to this world about the time Voldemort’s final plans are laid. Voldemort has to believe I’m fully dead and not coming back. Tell no one about me talking to you. I’d like to keep it between just you and me. My time’s up, I need to go. Promise me you’ll destroy the horcruxes.”

“I will. Dumbledore will probably hatch some plan to bring you back to life, what should I do?”

“Stop him. And Professor, I and my mother don’t want you going back as a spy for Voldemort, for the record.” Harry said. He didn’t get to see the small smile cross Professor Snape’s face before he was pulled away by a bright pillar of light.


	5. Chapter 5

When Harry woke again he was lying in a dense forest.  _ He seriously needed to talk to Neinna and Mandos about dumping him in the most random of places all of the sudden. Seriously. It was more than a little unnerving. _ Pushing himself to his feet, Harry looked around. From what he could see, he was all alone.

The darkness of the forest bore down on him, and he shivered. Miniscule rays of light slipped through the trees, but not enough to light the forest floor very well. A glimmer of something white caught his attention.  _ A slip of parchment to his left! _ Balanced on a rock close by he could make out a single sheet of parchment.

Harry wasted no time scooping it up. He was the only one here, who else could it be for? Strange spidery writing criss crossed the paper. Squinting, he brought it up closer to his face to get a better look. A burst of light flashed before his eyes. Immediately, he used his right arm to shield his eyes. With his left hand he tried to drop the paper, but discovered it remained with his hand like someone had cast a sticking charm on it.

The brilliant light coming from the parchment was slowly traveling up his fingers. All Harry could do is watch the light climb up his arm. Reaching his shoulder, it fanned out reaching for his chest. _ What was going on?! _ Despite the brilliant light, darkness overtook him.

Harry came to with a groan. He didn’t know what just happened, but he was sure it had something to do with the bargain. Fighting the urge to pound his head on the forest floor in exasperation, Harry found the paper was still clutched in his left hand.

He tugged at, eyebrows going up when he realized it came away freely--unlike before. Unlike before, where he’d only seen chicken scratches, Harry’s eyes easily translated the words on the page.

_ Harry,  _

_ I realize you must have many questions about what just happened. No need to be alarmed. When you fell through the Veil your human body was destroyed. Obviously, you still need a body in Middle Earth. When you touched the parchment you were given your new body. In short, you are now an elf. _

_ By now you’ve probably realized you are much younger than before, the eleven equivalent of five. We all agreed you deserve a better life than the one you were given. Learn to live life and enjoy being a child. And know, no matter how much time passes here, you will never be late for anything in your home world. _

_ You still have all the powers of a wizard. I strongly suggest you keep your magic a secret. As an elf you’ll find you have more skills and powers. Train your wizard abilities in secret, but as I said before, live life. Have fun. _

_ Mandos _

The parchment disintegrated into a cloud of ash. Harry felt the overwhelming desire to laugh at his note from the Valar of the Dead. Never in his wildest dreams would he think a Valar of the Dead would be leaving him a note telling him to ‘live life’! It was preposterous!

Harry looked around, the forest didn’t seem so dark and ominous. Yet, something inside him knew if he didn’t find a way out of these woods soon, he’d be in grave danger. He stood up, shaking the dirt from his pure white clothes. They were long, white and almost seemed to glow on their own.  _ No! He was the one glowing! Why was he glowing?!  _ Harry’s eyes went wide. His skin was pale, smooth and seemed to have an ethereal glow to it.

The sound of rushing water filled his ears and he turned towards it. After a short walk he came to the base of a tall, elegant waterfall. The clear water shone silver in the moonlight, slipping over porcelain looking rocks. Drawn to the waterfall, he caught his reflection in the moving water. 

_ Reflection in moving water? How’s that even possible?  _ He brushed it aside to study his new body. Two slender and pointed ears poked up through platinum white hair. He snorted.  _ Just his luck to be given a new body and be cursed with the Malfoy white/blonde hair!  _ Mandos sure had a twisted sense of humor. The only thing that hadn’t changed was his emerald green eyes.

Harry heard at one time the eyes were the windows to the soul. He hadn’t believed it then, but a part of him was starting to wonder if it was true. He shrugged, oh well, best not worry too much, he had bigger problems.

He looked around. The Valar obviously wanted him to find an elven colony to live with. But which way? If he headed down river, who was to say he wouldn’t end up walking  _ away _ from where he was supposed to go? 

So, up river or down?

_ Snap! _

A twig snapped behind him and he twirled around. _What was that?_ _Friend or foe?_ Faintly, he could hear heavy footfalls. They weren’t just coming from behind him, they were everywhere! Unsettled, the elfling backed up, closer to the river. Cold water splashed over his bare feet.

Dense green bushes pushed aside, and a figure strode into full view.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I'm sorry I'm just posting this chapter now. I posted this chapter over on Fanfiction.net on the 23rd. I didn't mean to but I completely forgot to jump over here and cross post! Anyway, hope you like it!
> 
> Warning: This one is a little short, but I had a great time writing it!

“Mae Govannen, penneth.” [Well met, little one] A tall lithe figure spoke.

Craning his neck, Harry watched as more tall figures stepped out of the trees encircling him. Still unsettled, he backed up further into the cold water to get away from the strangers. The cold water rose up to reach his hips. Catching his panicked expression the figures stopped moving forward.

“Peace, Penneth. We mean you no harm.”

Harry didn’t believe him and it must have shown. The tall leader shifted his gaze to the dozen other elves circling the river. Almost silently, they stepped back into the trees without the slightest whisper of sound. The newly turned elfling shivered.

“Penneth, you are freezing. Please come out of the water and allow us to get you warm.” The figure gracefully extended an arm. It wasn’t a big movement, but still Harry couldn’t stop himself from flinching.

“Daro!” [Stop!] Harry heard himself yell.

The figure complied, and seemed to make efforts not to appear he was moving closer. Harry also didn't miss the worried look the elf shot towards the tree line where his companions stood and no doubt listened in on their conversation.

“Penneth, please. This is no place to linger, especially for young elflings. Foul things travel these woods. Come, let’s get you warmed up and away from this evil place.” The elf shot him a pleading look. This time, he didn’t raise his arm.

Harry stood still, head cocked to the side. What did he mean this is an evil place? He may be nothing but a tiny elf child in their eyes, but he’s seen enough evil to know this place wasn’t as ‘evil’ as the elf said. Was it a ruse? Were they trying to lure him away so they could capture or kill him? Harry wanted to take another step away from the man, but he didn’t. Something in the figure’s voice sounded true.  _ Worry? Concern? _

It’d been a long time since someone had ever looked at him with concern.  _ Real concern.  _ Molly Weasly would probably swat his ears if she knew he didn’t consider her fleeting glances of concern meant anything. She cared for him yes, but had anyone cared for him because he was Harry, or the Boy-Who-Lived?

When anyone at home looked at him, all they saw was his scar. They saw a hero, a figurehead, a leader. They NEVER saw Harry. Not Harry Potter, just Harry.

The elfling inched his way out of the water, slowly walking towards the tall elf looking down at him with concern. This elf, this stranger, was concerned for him _ because _ he was just Harry. For once there was no title, no celebrity status, no one to run from or impress. He was just Harry.

His heart felt lighter than it had in a long time. The figure standing on the bank held out his arm once again, ready to help pull Harry out of the river. Step by step his legs carried himself closer to the stranger. Raising a small pale and slender hand, Harry reached for the hand he could almost reach with his fingertips.

_ Wham! _

Harry watched his horror as a jet black arrow was forced through the chest of the elf in front of him. Limply, the elf crumpled forward, face down in the stream. Vibrant red blood spread like ink through the clear blue water as blonde hair fanned out around the dead elf's head.

Tears came to Harry’s eyes. This was all his fault! People were dying because of him, again.

_ Clang! Clang! Whoosh! _

Lithe elven forms were being pushed back into the clearing by black forms.

_ Whoosh! _

Harry ducked just in time as a black blade whistled nearly a hair's breadth from where his head used to be. Looking up, a black skinned and twisted creature loomed over him with yellow eyes and broken teeth. Heart hammering, Harry took a step backwards.

_ Splash! _

Another black enemy jumped into the stream behind him and grinned grotesquely. Despite himself, Harry gulped. The elves were fighting furiously on the far side of the meadow. Several tore their eyes away from their enemies long enough to lock eyes with him before yelling to their companions.

They were trying to reach him, but everytime one of them tried to split off from their kinmen more black creatures jumped in their way. Screaming in agony, two elves were cut down.

“Well, well, well, look what we ‘ave here.” A crude voice jeered. Harry shivered as he turned to face the towering creature that had him cornered. “A poor defenseless elfling!”

“Hmm.” the second creature licked its jagged, vicious lips. “It’s been too long since we’ve tasted elf flesh!”

The two creatures circled him like he was a steak on display at a feast. Harry shivered again, though this time not because his white robes were soaking wet. This time, it was in pure terror.

The first creature made a swipe at him. He scrambled backwards, ducking out of the way only to discover it was a trick. Gritty, black hands grabbed him from behind and held him in a bruising grip. Angrily, Harry kicked and jerked against the strong arms fruitlessly. His captors laughed.

“Come on, let’s get out of here! We’ll eat good tonight!”

“Leithia-nin!” [Release me!] Harry yelled only to be hit on the side of the head. His head swam and his vision blurred.

The last thing he heard was the desperate cries of the elves before darkness took him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! This chapter contains descriptions of child torture!

When the elfling next woke all he saw was darkness. Something hard and cold was unrelenting against his pounding head. His thoughts were muddled and thick. Then Harry remembered what happened at the river. Ragged gasps wheezed through his throat. The elves! He’d gotten them all killed. If he hadn’t refused to leave the river they might still be alive. Screams and yells from both the past and present filled his mind. What had he done to be cursed so badly that he was forced to cause the death of everyone he met?

Harry wanted nothing more than to pound his fists into the stone floor. How could he be so stupid!

In an attempt to distract himself from his guilt, the elfling turned his attention to the dark world around him. Sensitive ears picked up the gentle movement of water further away. The stone floor was wet, cold and uneven. The air was stale. It all pointed to one thing.

He was in a cave.

He was captured.

He was a prisoner.

Knowing better than to let his captors know he was awake, Harry forced himself to take even breaths, slowing his heart rate. Next he forced his muscles to go limp, giving off the appearance of sleep. Pensively, he waited to hear the other occupants in the cave he most definitely had.

There! Off to the right there was a soft shuffle like someone, or  _ something _ , was walking away. Heavy footsteps pounded near Harry’s sensitive. The elfling fought the urge to flinch when they stopped by his ear.

Silently, he waited.

A harsh kick landed in his back. Without meaning to, bright green eyes flew. He gasped in pain while the dark creature leering over him laughed at the sight of his pain.

A grating voice spoke in a language that made his ears ring in pain. The elfling wriggled on the ground desperate to find a way to get away from the painful words causing him pain. The evil creatures laughed as they saw his reaction to their dark speech and seemed to go out of their way to speak as much as they could.

Finally, the painful words stopped and a black rotting hand held him in a painful grip. Harry could do nothing as he was forced to stand with his feet and hands bound.

“Jogug, you mangy maggot, I told you to be back an hour ago!” Harry blinked away a pale silver tear as another black creature came into view. It towered over the creature holding him.

“Aye! Found us a stray elfling.” Dark curses and murmurs ran through the cave and Harry realized there were far more creatures surrounding him than he thought there was.

The ropes holding him were tight. The only thing he could do was sit still and wait. No sooner had he come to that conclusion did a massive hand grip his hair and a sensitive ear. Harry screamed in pain.

“Hmm… Not much is he?” Suddenly, Harry felt himself be flung to the side. “Alright ‘ave your fun ya mangy dogs, but you better not cause any elves to come looking for him. And he’d better last, not often we take an elfling do we?”

A pitiful looking creature, as black as all the rest, stepped forward and ran a finger lovingly down his jagged blade. “If they do, more meat for us!”

Harry felt like a rock was sinking in his gut. More silver tears ran down his face. He knew what was coming. What these evil creatures intended to do to him. The only thing he could do was close his eyes tightly as he felt his evil captors closing in.

* * *

Pain. That was the only thing he remembered anymore. It was white hot, burning, scorching, cooking him from the inside out.

He’d lived in pain so long he didn’t remember who he was. What he was called, where he came from. Come to think about it, all he could remember about his miserable existence was the many dark skinned creatures that visited him often. Orcs, he’d learned they were called.

Hate.

He hated the orcs. He hated the pain, the tearing, the cutting, and the burning. He hated them, he hated himself.

Who was he?

Did he have anyone waiting on him? Did anyone know what his name was so they could tell him? He didn’t remember it. All he knew was when he could hear footsteps that meant two things. Pain and food.

An orc would come and force moldy, foul tasting food down his throat. There was a time in his blurry kind he could remember brightly lit tables full of food. Sometimes he’d dream about those tables. He’d loved how vivid the dreams were. Now he hated them and they became few and far between. He hated it that his mind thought of such brilliant scenes just so he could wake up hungry, in pain and surrounded by darkness.

No, it was better if he didn’t dream such good things. Good things weren’t for him. Not for him. 

One time he wished he would be allowed to die, but now he didn’t dare wish for that. No, good things weren’t for him.

Oversensitive ears heard the sound of heavy feet coming closer. Involuntarily he tensed. All he knew was he’d been here a long time. His captors didn’t bind him in strong ropes anmore. No. He knew better than to run away, to scream or beg.

All he was allowed to do was wait. Wait for the pain to start. Wait for the smell of burning his flesh as his captors laughed and jeered. But he didn't scream no more.

He didn’t talk anymore either. He didn’t remember what it felt like, what his own voice sounded like. Talking wasn’t allowed in the dark. Talking brought pain.

A black hand clenched his small arm. Eyes closed, he waited for pain, for punishment. Surprisingly, he felt himself being lifted up and dragged away. The cold stone grated against his numerous burns and cuts, but he didn’t make a sound or move a muscle.

His fractured mind barely noticed when he stopped moving and was allowed to lay still on the hard floor. Feet shuffled around him, but he didn’t move or look up. If the orcs wanted to hurt him he couldn’t stop them.

His nose tickled. It smelt like the red hot illusions that made his skin burn and smell. They were illusions, they were real. At least that’s what the fading part of his mind told him. But that was all he knew to call it. It had a name once, but couldn’t remember. He didn’t need to remember. Remembering never stopped the pain, and pushed away the suffocating darkness.

Remembering was pointless.

The harsh noises that made his ears hurt sounded from all around. The black creatures were talking to each other again in the gutteral sounds they used so often.

Without warning he felt himself being picked up again. His dull green eyes no longer sparkled with life watched as the red illusion came closer. Another black creature clasped his legs while the first held on tightly to his frail arms.

His mind screamed of oncoming pain, but just like usual it faded into the background. All at once he felt himself set down. Not beside the fire, but in it. His scarred and aching legs were pushed onto the burning logs, completely at the mercy of the red light. At his back he could feel another burning log, licking and scorching his pale skin.

Slim, bloodless lips opened in a silent scream of pain. Yet the pitiful elfling lying in the fire didn’t move or crawl. He simply stayed, waiting for the call of death.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back, Mellon-nin!
> 
> First of all I want to address a few questions I know you all have been asking or wondering.
> 
> 1.) If Harry kept his magic then why didn't he use it to escape from the orcs?
> 
> Answer: How long do you think has passed since the river and the previous chapter? (Don't you hate it when someone answers a question with a question!). In short, Harry did use magic, but after the last page break in chapter 7 I never stated how much time had passed or in other words, how long Harry has remained a prisoner to the orcs. Chapter 7 has Harry stating that he'd been tortured by the orcs for so long, he didn't remember much about the life he lived before hand(time is comprehended differently by the elves). It is safe to say Harry did use magic, but it just hasn't been written yet.
> 
> I planned to skip around in the time line a little bit. More memories will return to him, including scenes where he used his magic in an attempt to free himself.
> 
> 2.) If Harry used magic, then how could he have not broken out on his own?
> 
> Answer: Morgoth, the Master of Sauron, was a Valar who fell from grace and good standing. Sauron was Morgoth's first lieutenant and the only person powerful enough to to push back Sauron-for a limited amount of time-is Galadriel, with the help of Saruman and Elrond. When I first started this fanfic I intended on Harry being placed in time just after the Battle of the Five Armies. However, after writing chapter 7, I decided to place him a few hundred years before the Battle of the Five Armies. So, Sauron will have been gaining strength while Harry was a prisoner. (And just an fyi, Sauron will have created a way for Harry's personality to be changed...and maybe his magic-so he wouldn't fight back).
> 
> 3.) Harry was such a strong, resilient, and stubborn human in the Deathly Hallows, why make him out to have lost his sanity?
> 
> Answer: It has a lot to do with the answer to question two. I've held off answering questions so far, but ultimately decided it would be better to explain things now than continue to confuse my readers.
> 
> In short, Harry has been known to wield light magic and a little dark magic (in the Ministry's point of view). Sauron was depicted as being another Dark Lord, taught by his master, who didn't hesitate to use Dark Magic to force others to his will. Sauron used (or rather had his servants use) dark magic on Harry while a prisoner. This was an attempt to force Harry into becoming a wraith-like creature that was bound to follow the orders of his 'Master'.
> 
> Elflings are very rare among elves and are guarded and loved jealously, Sauron knows that. The elves would have hesitated, as well as men, to harm a wraith-like elfling. So, to protect him from becoming a wraith, his magic fought back. Whether or not Harry's personality and mind has been altered in an attempt to protect himself and Middle Earth is something that will yet to be decided.
> 
> 4.) What's the rating and genre of this Fanfic? I feel like it's surpassed a K+ rating.
> 
> First, I write my stories as I post them. I don't have the entire story completely written out, only an outline and an idea for the next chapter. Granted, I did notice (after the reviews) I had surpassed the guidelines for a K+ qualifications.
> 
> I don't write Mature stories. The highest rating I go to is T. I also won't write any content you wouldn't be comfortable watching in a TV show under a PG-13 rating. Torture scenes will be very muted compared to Chapter 7 and I'm very sorry for not watching the rating close enough. Be rest assured this story is now rated T.
> 
> *Any references or flashbacks of torture will have warnings at the beginning of the chapter and now before the pagebreak of the actual torture scene.
> 
> There was also the question of why I listed this story as a tragedy. No, tragedy will play a part in this story, however, I'm an evil author and love to write lots of angst. I do give my word that all will be set to rights and should any character be killed in this fic it will only be my own OC's, secondary characters, or bad guys (like orcs). There is peace coming for Harry, cross my heart.
> 
> Does this make sense? I appreciate reviewers that are willing to let me know when things don't make sense. But please, no flames. If you have questions just ask them, but please be nice. I work hard to write these stories and become very attached to them. In my mind, they make sense because I know what's coming up in later chapters, but I know all of you don't have that.

Nienna glared at Mandos convinced this was all his doing. She was the Lady of Mercy and was taking the news of Harry Potter falling into the hands of orcs shortly after arriving in Middle Earth, especially hard. She promised him this life would be better!

"Come now Nienna, I had nothing more to do with this than you did." Mandos said, sitting across from her at the ornate stone table. The Valar of the Dead was as flummoxed as his sister was, though he was good at hiding it.

The Lady of Mercy stared at him harshly, blue eyes glittering. She looked him up and down searching for the lie she couldn't find. Finally her shoulders sagged and she sighed.

"Forgive me brother, I feel as though I've betrayed him. All his life he has only known misery. We made a deal to give him a chance at a real life and now...now he's nothing more than a whipping boy. At this very moment being tortured at the will of those fell beasts." Nienna uncharacteristically spat.

It was Mandos' turn to look disheartened. "I know, sister. Believe me, I know. I think it's safe to say that something more is going on than we know about."

Nienna hummed in agreement.

"Might I suggest, dear sister that we find Manwё?" She opened her mouth to answer only to be interrupted.

"No need dear brother and sister. It's about time I answered your questions..."

Manwё took his time walking around the table to take his seat. They all settled in for a long conversation.

* * *

_Meanwhile…_

The Lord of the Rings stirred. Darkness surrounded him, holding him in a comforting embrace. Every day he grew in power. His subconscious stirred, feeling an aura known only to the eldar. No! It was younger…

If he had a body, a cruel smile would have crept across his face. Good. His subjects had captured an elfling. And a powerful elfling at that. Elfings were rare in this age, he knew that much. The age of the elves were ending, and he was going to do anything and everything in his power to use this elfling to decimate every elf lift on Middle Earth. Yes! It was perfect!

He turned his attention to his loyal servants. _Awake and answer your rightful master! Come forth, the nine!_ he called out to them in the Black Speech.

A screech split the air. The nine had returned to Middle Earth. The Lord of the Rings formulated his plan before sending it outwards.

A feeling of pure malevolence permeates the darkness.

Nine Ringwraiths he'd created.

The elfling would be the perfect addition to his inner circle of servants.

Yes! Just imagine what an elfling wraith could do!

* * *

_Fifteen years later…_

Lord Glorfindel held a long knife in his hand. The caves in the Misty Mountains ran for miles with no set pattern making them treacherous to wander through. All around him he could hear the screams of orcs echoing through the tunnels as elves pursued them. Half a step ahead of him, his long time friend, Lord Elrond of Imlandris walked through the cave, his own weapon drawn and ready.

The tunnel floor sloped down and the two elf lords felt a shiver run down their spines. Elves were creatures of light, so much so that the simple presence of evil was enough to make them squirm. The air felt dark, oppressing and hopeless.

They both shared a look with one another before creeping forward. What they saw was enough to give them nightmares for centuries. A broken rabble of orcs were huddled around a brightly burning fire on the cave floor. Blood, grime and all manner of disgusting substances covered the floor.

But that wasn't the worst of it.

Lying inside the flames was a small figure. The orcs, hearing the elves coming through the tunnels must have panicked, and threw their prisoner into the flames so he or she couldn't be saved. Anger stirred in Glorfindel's heart and he lashed out with all the ferocity of a dragon.

In less than a minute the orcs had been taken care of. Dread builded in his body as he walked over to the blackened figure still in the fire. If only they could have gotten there sooner to save the poor soul from such a gruesome fate.

Softly, Elrond walked closer to his friend, eyes locked on the body being consumed by the flames. His own heart felt sick.

"Poor soul." Elrond said softly. "Find something to douse the flames, we'll give them a proper burial."

The Lord of the Golden Flower nodded and went about searching for a bucket. It took some searching before he found a bucket of gruel against a far wall in a small forgotten corner. Water was preferable, but he had yet to find anything of the sort. The bucket of gruel would have to do.

Holding the bucket aloft in his right hand, he returned to the fire where his friend was waiting. He was just about to let loose the gruel, to douse the flames and the small form, when movement caught his eyes. There! It was small enough that only the eldar could have seen it. The figures' eyes flickered as if they were trying to wake up.

Elrond lurched forward, having seen exactly what Glorfindel had. Deftly, the healer reached into fire, heedless of his own safety, and pulled the small figure out of the flames. Sweeping off his cloak, Elrond went to work pounding out the flames that still clung to the child. Glorfindel wordlessly dumped the bucket of gruel on the fire and then abandoned the bucket unceremoniously.

On the cave floor, Elrond finished extinguishing the last flames. Finally, they could see the poor soul.

The figure's size told them both it was a child they were saving. At closer inspection, they could clearly see the male child was very young. Torn, once white clothes were black and grimy. They had more holes in it than they could count.

Elrond felt more than heard Glorfindel kneel down beside him. The Balrog Slayer studied the pitiful figure, clearly wanting to offer the child comfort, but didn't know how. Burns and scars covered the child's skin making it hard to know where they could touch him without causing him pain.

"What can I do?" Glorfindel asked.

"I need you to get my healing bag, it's on my horse." Elrond instructed pressing his fingers against the child's forehead so he could monitor his pulse. His wrists and neck were so covered in burns, the elf lord didn't want to touch them for fear of pressing more dirt and grime in the burns.

The blonde-haired elf stood stalking to the exit. Elrond called after him. "Hurry. We don't have much time."

In his head, Elrond estimated the time it would take for Glorfindel to return. The sooner he was able to treat his patient the faster the child could start to heal. Meanwhile, his skilled fingers felt the flitting pulse from the child. Pale blue-green eyes studied the form he kneeled over.

Suddenly, pain filled eyes opened, staring up at him. The Elf Lord's usually impassive eyes saddened as they connected with the gaze of the child he was trying to save. Deep clouded and blank eyes looked up at him. They were filled with pain and suffering.

"Peace, little one. You are safe now. No one will hurt you, I promise." The child didn't respond, only looking up at him intently as if he was drawing strength off the very sight of the elf. Elrond's fingers gently combed back the long, matted hair, trying to offer as much comfort as he could.

His slender fingers stopped when they felt a small pointed ear. Pulling the hair back, he revealed a familiar looking ear. The child wasn't a human boy, he was an elfling! Tears pricked the age-old elf's eyes. Elflings were so rare. The elves of Middle Earth had lost all hope of another being born on Arda as it had been over two centuries since the last elfling was born.

Yet here he was watching over an elfling who had been tortured by orcs without anyone knowing anything about it. It made him feel guilty thinking such a pure and innocent child could endure such a harsh and undeserving fate without anyone knowing.

"Ai Valar, how could this be?" Hate grew in his heart for the evil creatures that would do such a thing. After Celebrian sailed because she'd been heartlessly tortured by orcs for nearly a year, he'd hated the dark creatures. He hated them with every fiber of his being. But, no matter how much hate he'd felt he pushed it back, because he was a healer and a leader. The safety of Rivendell was his duty, but now a deeper anger was stirring in his heart.

It burned so hot, all he wanted to do was draw his sword and decimate every orc and goblin who dared show their ungrateful face.

His eyes returned to the pain filled face of the figure he knelt over. The elfling's chest rose and fell with silent gasps of pain. The healer could hear the tell-tale wheeze in the child's throat suggesting his patient's throat was swelling. Elrond looked up at the entrance. He needed Glorfindel to return with his bag more than ever. It was only a matter of time before the smoke caused the little one's throat to swell completely shut.

"Shh. Rest penneth, try to relax. I'm right here." His soothing words betrayed the turmoil within. "I'll do everything in my power to heal you."

A soft sound made Elrond's gaze shoot up. Someone or something was coming. Then, he felt the pure white glow of his best friend. He relaxed. Glorfindel had arrived at last.

The Balrog Slayer skidded around the corner with the grace only known to the eldar and quickly offered the bag to Elrond. The master healer wasted no time digging into the bag and pulled out herbs, poulices, and bandages.

The Elf Lord's mind spun in dizzying circles coming up with best ways to treat the elfling. He needed to grind herbs together to bring down the swelling and counter the smoke inhalation. Next, he needed to clean and bind the burns that covered the penneth's back, arms and legs.

The flames most likely burned the elflings ragged clothing into his flesh. That will need to be removed before he could treat the burns itself. Then, there were dozens of slashes and cuts adorning his small body. The orcs medical treatment would have been abysmal at best. No doubt, infection was running rampant through the young elf's body and had done so for quite some time.

Elrond only hoped that wasn't the case. The burns would be hard enough to heal from without having to worry about infection.

Glorfindel gasped. The Balrog Slayer caught sight of the pointed ear through the matted hair. The warrior was pale, no doubt pondering the same questions Elrond had a few seconds ago.

"Can you save him?"

Elrond looked up at the question. The elfling was fighting hard to live. However, the simple fact was the young elf had been tortured for who knew how long wasn't good. Many elves lost the will to live and fade not long after being rescued.

The Light always paid a steep price for existing alone in darkness.

* * *

Legolas Greenleaf gritted his teeth in pain. It'd been nearly fifteen years since he'd been gravely injured by an orc arrow. The palace healers had told him the wound would never truly heal unless he traveled to Imladris seeking healing from Lord Elrond.

He never went and didn't plan to anytime soon.

Greenwood needed him here, his troops needed him. Everyday the shadow grew stronger as their forces were slowly whittled down bit by bit. The Silvan elves were exceptional fighters, no matter what the stuffy Noldors thought, they had to be. While all the other realms sat in their plentiful forests and valleys they called his home, _Mirkwood_.

 _Ai_ , how long had the shadows and sorcery grown under the trees of Greenwood. Every blade and bow was needed to stop the shadow from taking over. He couldn't go to Imladris.

It wasn't an option.

Unbidden, the memories of his injury surged to his mind.

_ Flashback _

_Legolas flashed his left scimitar forward slicing at a spider creeping up on him. All around him the other elves were busy fighting the spiders trying to ambush them. Swinging his right scimitar backwards he stabbed a spider about to drop down on Tauriel._

_The branch he was standing on quivered when the felled spider crashed into his tree. Even with his elven balance he could feel himself starting to tip off. Swiftly, he jumped off the branch, before twisting his right hand backwards in a complicated move, safely storing his scimitar. Using his now free hand, he grasped the branch directly below the one he was just under._

_Legolas stored his left knife and reached for his bow. Soon enough all the spiders were dead and the patrol breathed a sigh of relief._

_The Prince of Mirkwood landed nimbly on the ground before addressing Tauriel._

_"Report."_

_"Minor injuries, My Lord, no casualties. We were lucky." Tauriel's red hair flashed. Her hair bright enough it seemed to take on the very shadows surrounding her._

_"Any spider bites?" Even as he asked the question, his ice blue eyes were taking in the health of his soldiers. About three elves were bleeding, but not badly. They were healthy enough to continue with their patrol._

_"No, caun-nin. Orders?" [my prince] Tauriel asked._

_"We travel north. We cannot risk the spiders spreading their filth towards the Queen's Fountain."_

_The Queen's Fountain was an old waterfall. Long ago, Oropher had long ago commissioned elves to deepen the waterfall before the Battle of the Last Alliance as a gift for the Queen of Greenwood. The Queen's Fountain was one of the most precious artifacts left in Greenwood._

_The Darkness had long ago encroached upon the trees surrounding the clearing. For unknown reasons, the meadow and pool itself remained untouched. It gave the Silvan people hope that the orcs and spiders could one day be driven out of the forest, never to return._

_It didn't take long for the patrol to reach the Queen's Fountain. Gentle clear blue water spilled over the porcelain rocks. Legolas felt his heart lift seeing the beautiful sight. The shadows had stolen much of the beauty of the forest. Where the trees once held thousands of vibrant green leaves they were bare now. Any leaves that did come one were dark brown or red, as if the darkness was sucking the life out of the gentle giants._

_"Caun-nin! There is a small child near the water!" [my prince] Tauriel called out._

_Legolas strode forward, pulled out of his daze. His sharp eyes caught the sight of a small figure dressed in white peering into the water intently. The child's skin glowed with an inner light._

_"It's an elfling!" Tauriel gasped in shock. All the other elves echoed shock and curiosity at the small figure._

_Elflings were rare since the shadow darkened the Greenwood. Ada had said the elves of Imladris and Lothlorien had experienced the same dilemma. The last elfling to be born was Arwen Undomiel, Lord Elrond's daughter, and that was nearly two centuries ago! The birth of another elfling would have been hard to keep secret among the Elven kingdoms. How could it be that an elfling was all alone in the middle of Greenwood?_

_A protective instinct swelled in the elves chest. The darkness had already taken so much from them already. They weren't going to let any harm come to one so young._

_Silently, Legolas pushed back the dense brush coming to clear view of the small elfling. The elfling turned around, hearing him approach. Legolas, and the elves behind him wavered slightly at the look of fear that crossed the child's face._

_"Mae Govannen, Penneth."_

_ End Flashback _

The memory faded away leaving Legolas with a cold tingling concentrated in his chest. The last thing he remembered was convincing the elfling to come out of the water before a blinding pain overcame him.

Tauriel pulled him out of the water, unconscious and brought him back to the stronghold.

When he woke up he'd demanded to know what happened to the elfling. Tauriel fought back tears as she told him how the orcs surrounded the elfling and fled. More than half of the six elves on that patrol were injured, counting him, and two elves had been killed trying to reach the child.

Thranduil sent out a double patrol to hunt down the orcs and rescue the elfling, but they came back empty handed. The foul creatures ran too quickly towards Dol Guldur for the elves to stop them. Whatever went into Dol Guldur never came out alive.

The fate of the elfling festered deep in Legolas' fea. If only he'd been quicker, more prepared. He never should have been so engrossed in convincing the elfling to trust him! His own insolence cost an innocent child his life.

"Legolas?" His Adar's voice startled Legolas out of his musings.

"Adar," The Prince of Mirkwood pulled himself off the bed he was sitting on. "Is the council over already?"

The Elvenking swept into his son's room. Elaborate robes trailed behind him, brushing the floor. His Adar's normally impassive face showed concern for his only son and child.

"Ion-nin, it is nearly past midday. The council has gone later today than it has done in some time." Legolas took a deep breath, cursing his bad luck. He must have been more out of focus than he originally thought.

His Adar stepped closer, vibrant blue eyes normally as cold as ice now looked at him with concern. The King of Mirkwood trailed over to his son and knelt before him.

"Adar-?" Legolas asked in confusion.

"Shh…" His father shushed him. Gently, the King rested a hand on his chest. Pure white light flowed around the older elf.

Legolas felt the power of his father swirl in his chest strengthening him from the inside out. He sighed as the pain he'd been bearing for fifteen years eased. At last his father stopped, silver eyes rising to meet sea blue. Despite himself, all the prince could do was dip his head and stare at the floor.

Now his father knew just how bad he'd been injured fifteen years ago, and remained still.

"Pack up your belongings for a week's trip. I'll gather a guard to accompany you." The King said simply. In one swift movement his father was on his feet and halfway to the door.

"Adar?" Legolas questioned nervously. Just where was his father sending him? Was he unhappy with him and this was his notice of banishment.

Sadness filled the bond between father and son. Was he loved no longer? The King had asked him if he was fully healed some time ago before he was allowed to go on another patrol after his injury. The King now knew those words were all lies. He could have gotten someone seriously injured-or killed-by lying to his father all these years.

It wasn't unheard of his father to punish soldiers who pushed to return to active duty when they weren't ready.

"Your visit to Rivendell is fifteen years overdue. Your sule is injured."

"Ada! I am needed here, I can't leave! Mirkwood needs me!" Legolas pleaded.

Thranduil turned around to face him. An eyebrow rose above an ice blue eye. "You are correct, ion-nin, Mirkwood does need her prince. Most importantly, she needs a living one. Pack your belongings, you leave on the marrow."

Legolas watched with an open mouth as the Elvenking swept out of the door, leaving nothing behind except the soft rustling of his robes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adar = Father
> 
> Hannon Le = Thank you
> 
> Namarie = Goodbye
> 
> Caun-nin = My Prince
> 
> sule = soul
> 
> Ion-nin = my son
> 
> Mae Govannen = Well met (proper elvish greeting)
> 
> Penneth = little one
> 
> Well that settles chapter 7. There was a lot more I wanted to put in this chapter, but it just wouldn't fit. Anyway, it'll be coming out in the next chapter.
> 
> If you still have more questions let me know. And don't worry, more information will be coming soon about Sauron's evil plans concerning Harry.
> 
> Namarie! [Goodbye]


End file.
